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I strongly believe I am of the old breed, valuing the longest form of the game as the highest of honours to be bestowed upon an Australian cricketer.
I have accepted, begrudgingly, that I will probably never rub shoulders with my boyhood heroes in the dressing rooms of the MCG, wear the baggy green in a patriotic battle of mental and physical stamina or raise my bat in salute of my own batting prowess in front of a Boxing Day crowd.
But a bloke can dare to dream right?
With the introduction of the Decision Review System, Hotspot, Spider-cam and (god forbid) Channel Nines “The Desk” and “360 Virtual 3D Replay System” I suddenly feel 40 years older, struggling to conform to cricket’s new breed.
From newly wrinkled eyes, these technological advancements have the means to ruin the gentlemen’s game in the modern era’s quest for perfection.
Some testify that these customisations to our game help simplify and give those less savvy with cricket a chance to understand the pressure cooker environment.
I think it detracts from the spectacle of the game having to listen to Ian Healy incessantly pitching the hard earned taste of Victoria Bitter, Michael Slater’s lawn bowls commentary (which somehow links back to Kentucky Fried Chicken?) or the latest backyard shenanigans on The Block.
Don’t even get me started on Mark “The Human Adjective” Nicholas.
With the new commentary class being slowly ushered in with their undying lust to outdo each other, cricket is becoming a faddism, a charade parade.
Kerry Packer’s brainchild of televised cricket has become a pirated DVD, with subtitles stuck on.
With the passing of the late and great Tony Grieg, the old school is slowly on the outer and true cricketing values are going with them.
I often get asked by less cricket savvy friends “why do you find cricket so interesting?” I’m sure that most cricketers have found this question tricky to answer.
I’ll admit there is no middle ground, no grey area to colour in with this sport, you either love it or hate it. It’s hard to explain ones love of a sport which, yes, can be seen as a grown man’s version of fetch.
But do you remember that feeling when Australia won the Adelaide Test go up 3-0 in the Ashes in 2006? Or when Shane Warne took wicket 700? These are the purest moments of cricketing euphoria.
Every day I see more and more reasons to deduce that cricket has lost its mojo, unable to recapture its former glory with international cricketers adopting the “in it to win it” mantra.
Twenty20 has proudly snaffled some fantastic cricketing talents away from the longer game with high reward, little work agendas being flung at them from across the table to be signed, sealed and delivered to the closest franchise.
With the emergence of flashy, arrogant but talented players and with the retirement of Michael Hussey from the International Test stage, I can’t help but feel Test cricket could be heading for the doldrums.
When asked about whether he liked the nickname “Mr. Cricket”, he replied “I never actually liked it at all because I knew there were so many greater players than myself who have achieved much more than me, but I don’t think anybody could love the game of cricket as much as me”.
I’ll divulge that moment actually brought a tear to my eye.
However, I hope for our sake as the old breed of cricketing tragics that further generations find the same love for the game as Mr. Hussey and I.
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